Pink is Only a Colour

Pink is Only a Colour

She is blonde
She has blue eyes
She wears pink
She is friendly, open
She is seven
She is hurt
In ways a child should not know
By a trusted friend's grandfather
Grandfathers are always kind, right?
I carry an ache in my hips
It sings sweet songs in the voice of a friend
That turn into screams only the child can hear
Blue and grey and bigger than me
Faded work clothes
The child, caught
Silent with fear
Smash and destroy!
But, no, it has long since rusted away
The woman carries still that ache in her hips
In her heart

The

where real life happens

Real Life doesn't always happen in my classroom. There are always *do overs*, mistakes can always be corrected, discipline reigns instead of punishment, kind words are the order of the day, no one is allowed to hurt anyone else's heart or body on purpose or by accident. When this happens we learn about better ways to behave.

This is not Real Life. This is Kindergarten. But my students come from Real Life. Where they can be hurt by those they love and trust. This is what was revealed this week. It hit our classroom hard. It hit me very hard.

You see, one of my students revealed some disturbing events which needed to be childlined because they were abusive. It was her father who played the main role. We did what we were supposed to do and reported it. She is still in my classroom as of Friday. How this will turn out or whether she will remain I do not know. She is one of those children particularly subject to abuse because she has emotional/behavioural issues. This topic is like the chicken and the egg. Does she have issues which caused the abuse or did the abuse cause the issues. From my point it is really moot. She said these disturbing things and we documented and she repeated and we reported. She is not likeable nor easy to deal with but that does not make abuse okay.
That was the world I grew up in...I deserved what I got cause I was difficult.

Then, there was the woman from the program who was calling me. Every night last week. Hanging on to some lifeline and hoping to make the best of a bad situation with her boyfriend. I felt fear and terror myself when I was on the phone with her and her boyfriend was home. So, I told her she could make the right decisions for herself and her kids (2 babies under 2). Well, Thursday she went to a shelter with her kids after calling the police on him.

Both situations are ones that I find difficult to deal with. But, I did my best. I spoke the truth. I never once said it would be okay. I said the right decisions could be made. At school we made the right decisions even though it may mean she leaves our school, it may mean she is taken from her family. She needs a safe, consistent environment to get a grip on her behaviour. I had inklings before. Like, her behaviour at school improved so vastly and she was still having trouble at home. The parents reported huge meltdowns and nasty things said. At school these things were handled in a calm manner and she was told that we do not behave like that. She had time to settle herself down and was then welcomed back into the group with a minimum of fanfare to prevent her feeling emabrrassed. (We had some issues with that early on and found that the less said the better she integrated back into the group.) She was stopped from hurting others and helped to deal with her own feelings inside the guidelines of acceptable classroom behaviour. She does pretty well. She has an aide to help her so her need for individual attention and management does not take away from the educational time of the other students. So, if she was doing well and improving at school, what was contributing to the continued reports of unmanageability at home? Abuse? Sounds like it.

So, that's what's going on. I'm working with the things these two situations bring up for me. That's my job. I have tools and at least I know they are hot buttons for me. That in itself is relatively new.

gentler work

I've been on a kick lately. Pointing out how folks are still staying sober and sane in A.A. without being *verbally abused* by their sponsors or other long timers. This stuff comes from the tough love era (and before in A.A.). But those of us who were subjected to it are being shown that it isn't the only way...if we are openminded enough to hear it. This I find pleasing. Because I am doing other things in my life in a kinder, gentler way as well. Like magic. Really, there is no need to blow your whole damn self up and scrape yourself back together. Heretofore that was how it was done. By me, by my teachers. The more explosive the better. But that gets wearing. Yes it does. And I am please to tell you all that so far, while being a powerful experience, our Iron Pentacle class is not causeing me to explode or anything. I intend to process this in my new kinder, gentler manner and I must say, it is so much saner. I fought hard for my sanity. No reason to toss it now.